


The Dornish Intrusion

by Isola_Caramella



Series: The Dornish Intrusion [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 07:15:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9167860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isola_Caramella/pseuds/Isola_Caramella
Summary: Oberyn being Oberyn and Jaime losing his shit





	

**Author's Note:**

> So there was to be a lot of Brienne and Oberyn sex in this, lots of it. 
> 
> But I wanted you guys to still love me, but I love Oberyn, bigly. The love is a tremendous love, the best love. 
> 
> Possibly OOC but I redacted a lot due to the lack of hot O/B vacation banging. 
> 
> I may revisit my bigger idea one day in the future. *grins wistfully* 
> 
> As always I own nothing and am grateful to GRRM for everything.

When the refill for her glass of wine didn't materialize through mental telepathy, Brienne looked up from her book to see that the restaurant was empty. Save for a lone Dornishman sitting at the bar watching her intently with a bemused smile on his lips. She turned pink with embarrassment when she realized how late it was; a quick glance at her watch showing that the last hour, an hour after closing, had been spent in her favorite world. It also showed that she'd missed her train, the last train from Sunspear to Water Gardens. It was too late to even think of finding an alternate mode of transport to get back to her rented villa.

"More wine?"

He was, much like every man that had held her attention for more than a minute, exceptionally beautiful. Thick black hair and a smile that oozed danger. Asha would take him to bed without learning his name just for the memory.

"No, gods, I'm so sorry. I hadn't checked the time."

"You are on vacation yes? Time is flexible when you have no responsibilities that are pressing."

"On vacation and two hours away from my villa."

"Quite the conundrum my blue eyed goddess. Let us drink and find a solution. I can make the Citadel proud for once and put their stellar education to good use."

A new bottle of Dornish red was pulled from behind the bar and Brienne watched the muscles in his back ripple under his shirt. More wine was definitely not what she needed with a beautiful man who called her a goddess with no hint of ridicule in his voice.

"You went to the Citadel?"

"In a manner, until I grew bored and pursued other hobbies."

"Hobbies? You consider going to the Citadel a hobby?"

"Such outrage, it kept my brother happy after our parents died. I have six degrees, none of which aid me today. This restaurant doesn't require a third of what I learned from there. And you?"

"Royal Army..."

"Is that how you acquired this?"

He ran a finger across her scarred cheek, making Brienne flinch.

"Yes, my last tour in Ulthos. A small faction of insurgents raided a village and ransacked or burned everything in their path. They were turning orphanages into brothels, children, caregivers, it didn't matter." She'd never told anyone outside of her unit about the scar, neither wanting to see the pity or revulsion.

"What an intrepid girl you are." There was a note of admiration in his voice that made her look up.

"Hardly, I had half my face eaten off by a mad man for my troubles."

"A person did this to you?"

She nodded, taking a sip of her wine to quiet the memories of that day and the weeks that followed. Dacey had managed to get a clean head shot before the man had managed to kill her but the damage had already been done. His fingers tucked her hair behind her ear, stroking her jaw. She had never wished to be anyone else, maybe prettier or less muscular, but in that moment she wanted to be Asha.

\-------------------------------------

Jaime half listened to the new security measures report, Brienne droned on in her clipped military cadence and he wanted nothing more than to throw a paper clip at the furrow in her brow to startle her. Tyrion's mismatched eyes had glazed over two minutes in and he was playing Angry Ravens surreptitiously on his phone. Their father made it a point to miss all of these meetings, even when he was the one who requested stricter security after software hacking and the failed break in a few months back when Brienne was in Dorne.

"Excuse me gentlemen. Copy, repeat please Dacey."

The wench never moved but Jaime spoke Brienne and her eyes could tell an entire story. The slow blink of her lashes and small inhalation told him something was happening but the bright excitement in her eyes made his stomach churn. It was the look she used to have whenever she spoke of her former commanding officer, the perpetually praise worthy Renly Baratheon.

"Copy that, thank you Dacey."

Her hand creeped up to smooth her severe bun and it was the closest he'd ever seen his wench come to primping. She wore a variation of a bun daily, pulled back tightly and low for work, sloppy and high at home and loose and pulled back when they played basketball. She'd never once touched her hair for anything or anyone once it was done. Years in the Royal Army made her dress impeccably for work, a dragon could blow fire and burn King's Landing to the ground and she would still be neat.

His nostrils flared in irritation, he couldn't place where the irritation came from, but it settled like a stone in the pit of his stomach. As soon as the meeting was finished, Brienne was out of his office and taking long strides to the elevator. She wasn't back after lunch and missed basketball at the community center, a first.

When midnight came and he was still the only person in her apartment, Jaime started to worry. Somewhere between fuming at her for missing basketball and his third unanswered call, the source of his irritation began to manifest itself. He'd been here before, uselessly calling Cersei's phone after another missed dinner or planned tryst in a hotel far enough out of King's Landing not to draw attention. Begging for affection he'd likely never receive, except he'd never considered that he needed Brienne's affection, had quietly assumed it was his to take at will. That he thought of Brienne in the same space as Cersei had been like taking a large dose of Pycellmucil, his usual verbal diarrhea, both internal and external had been rendered mute. The last three years of his life played on a slow loop of Jaime and Brienne Greatest Hits and he cursed his obliviousness.

He damned the the gods when Brienne walked in, giggling like a love sick school girl, like bloody Sansa Stark in Media Relations on the arm of salty Oberyn Martell of all people. His heart ricocheted in his chest, a pin ball trying to stay in a losing game. The wench had her hair down, he'd never realized it was so long, touching at the slight curve in her waist. It was almost white in the moonlight, her blue eyes incandescent as she laughed at whatever Oberyn had leaned up to whisper in her ear, in this light she could almost be a beauty.

They disentangled themselves enough to finally turn on the lights and see Jaime pretending to be asleep on the couch. Oberyn didn't even try to remove the falsely proprietary arm slung carelessly around her hips. They made a ridiculous picture, Brienne towering over him in fucking stilettos, high fucking stilettos he didn't even know she could wear. She was already considerably taller than the little shit, the added inches from her, gods be good blue fucking stilettos that showed every muscle in her long legs, made it worse.

"Jaime." Her bright eyes dimmed as she focused on him. Her dress, or lack thereof, was as ridiculous as her shoes. Some Myrish lace confection that stopped just short of needing a citation for public indecency.

"Wench."

He pushed his hair off of his face, purposefully dragging his eyes from hers to roam languidly over the unheard of amount of flesh she had on display.

"Took you long enough, I've been ready for bed for ages."

He left them there, Oberyn's defeated smirk a sorry prize. Fucking Dornishmen.

Hurricane Brienne was not something he was prepared for, she was a surprise gale force ready to break apart mere mortals in turbulent winds. Placid blue eyes were now violently boring dragonglass into him. She was vibrating with rage, exasperation and something else he couldn't put his finger on.

" _Why_ would you do that?"

The shoes were gone now, her pale feet planted firmly on the hardwood floor.

"What do you think I've done?"

"Jaime why are you here?"

"You missed lunch and you didn't come to basketball. Pod asked where you were and I had nothing to tell the kid since you wouldn't pick up your phone."

" _Asha_ has my phone. I left it in her loft accidentally."

"How was I supposed to know that. You could have been bleeding out or dead somewhere."

"If you were so worried you could have called Dacey or Asha, not sit here like, like..."

"Like what Brienne, sit here like what? Did I ruin your plans for the evening? Or is it morning now?"

"You don't have a right to judge me Lannister, no right at all."

"Oh no, I can't claim rights to pass judgement on you most honourable wench. I can however pass judgement on Martell. The man has enough children for a starting five plus the bench. He's a slimy bastard, to think you'd even let the likes of him near you."

"I wasn't planning on having children with him."

That hurt more than it should; the image of Brienne writhing under Oberyn imprinting on his brain.

"No just practicing then?"

"Why does it matter to you? I don't show up and ruin..."

"I can't believe you were going to sleep with that snake."

"I'm NOT you Jaime!"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Her tears had pooled now, dropping unaware as she leaned against the wall. Her hair covering her face as she crossed her hands over her chest. The picture of innocence even in her ridiculous dress.

"You go through life with that face and your sarcasm and forget that other people aren't so lucky. Twenty six years and I've had one, one person, genuinely show interest in me. For whatever reason. Not as a bet and not to stroke his ego once the joke was over. I know what I look like, you've had no trouble reminding me. I'm your trusty wench right? I can be your stand in for Cersei until she decides your worthy again. But gods forbid I get one chance, what did you call it?, to feel like a woman."

That she thought any of this was preposterous to him.

"You're no replacement for Cersei..." the glare she fixed him with came straight from the Land of Always Winter and stopped him. "That's not how I meant it. You honestly think I'm using you as what? A substitute?"

"Sure why the hells not. You get to belittle me, have someone to eat lunch and dinner with and a warm bed that you can stay in without fear of its occupant attacking your cock that's been put on ice only to be seen when her majesty decrees it or kicking you out before the moon can come in the sky properly."

"Did you just say cock? I'm not sure if that's Asha or Oberyn's influence but I like the way it sounds coming out of your mouth."

"Gods..."

"Oberyn Martell will not be the first man you take in your bed wench. The man is slime and doesn't even deserve to breath the same air as you. He has...."

"Jaime I DON'T CARE!"

"I care, if you fail to see that, the man is an ass."

"It's my plight in life to fall for asses."

The bathroom door slammed so hard the walls shook. And all he could think was in for a stag in for a pound, knocking lightly on the door.

"Brienne just so we're clear, Renly isn't the ass right?"

 

 


End file.
